


But my hair, John!

by Aelfay



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 18:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18124718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelfay/pseuds/Aelfay
Summary: Sherlock's particular about his curls.Also on the Dreamwidth Ficlet Friday Communityhere.





	But my hair, John!

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Но мои волосы, Джон!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917209) by [Little_Unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn)



> Does anyone else remember those [little plastic doohickey clips](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/61Wa80Cn9nL._SX450_.jpg) from the 90's? I broke my nails so many times trying to get them out.

Sherlock woke up to his head feeling heavier than usual, but he attributed it to the drinking from the night before, which would explain why he was passed out on the couch without having changed out of his suit. However, this deduction turned out to be quite false when he turned his head to nuzzle into the pillow and heard it rattle.

A moment later he was in front of the bathroom mirror, grimacing: apparently, Mrs Hudson’s grandniece had decided to do his hair whilst he was sleeping through the Christmas ‘do John had set up and had practically bedazzled his head with small plastic clips. Taking them out took ages, and his hair was one massive fluffball once he was finished, his usually sleek curls ruined for the foreseeable future. 

He was scowling into the mirror and mentally running through his list of products for his futile attempt to remedy this monstrosity when he heard a soft snort from the door. 

“You look like an angry cat, all puffed out like that,” John said from the doorway, and Sherlock fought a smile.

“You should have kept better guard,” he accused, and John came forward to wrap his arms around his waist, still chuckling.

“It seems I’ve failed in my duties as Captain. However shall I make it up to you,” he said, quickly schooling his face into seriousness, though his eyes still sparkled.

Sherlock had to repress the shiver John’s army voice always gave him, before admitting, “Normally I’d take that as an opportunity to drag you into the bedroom, but my hair, John!”

John had to muffle his snort of laughter into Sherlock’s shoulder.


End file.
